


but you found me awake, asleep

by xshe



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ambiguous Trevelyan, Awkward Cullen, F/M, Flirty Trevelyan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 05:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xshe/pseuds/xshe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even watching your mortifying infatuation flip through books for hours on end got old eventually.<br/>-<br/>Cullen gets assigned to Ostwick instead of Kirkwall and has a crush on a Chantry sister Trevelyan. They play chess. It's cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but you found me awake, asleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enmourne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enmourne/gifts).



“Ah, Ser Cullen, right?”

Her voice startled him from the semi-lucidity characteristic of hours upon hours of guard duty, of standing and watching people come and go through the Ostwick chantry library. Even watching your mortifying infatuation flip through books for hours on end got old eventually. He hadn't even noticed her walk up to him. What if she had been somebody else? Somebody meaning to attack him? He shouldn't get lost in thought so often. 

He hadn't answered her. What had she said? Something was he Cullen. He was Cullen.

“Um, yes.”

Ev- _Sister_ Evelyn didn't seem bothered by his hesitation. “Would you like to play some chess? I can teach you if you don't know how.” 

He knew how. “I know how.” Would he like to? He would, in fact, like that very much. He shifted uncomfortably. “I shouldn't. I'm supposed to be keeping watch. Just in case.”

She frowned. “It's late, and we're on the fourth floor. I don't think we're in too much danger from demons or darkspawn or.... whatever.” She waved her hand, “Besides, it's just us in here. I'm sure we'll hear whatever coming long before it reaches us.” 

Was it just them? Cullen quickly glanced around the huge library. Mostly dark. Just them. Oh, Maker.

“I... alright. I would prefer to sit closer to the door, if you don't mind.” 

She nodded, and turned to gesture at one of the small tables dotting the room before muttering something about grabbing the board. Cullen sat, and tried to swallow down his anxiety. Just a chess game. He could do this. He _liked_ chess. 

“I suppose you think it's weird,” her voice carried from behind a shelf before she emerged, a large mahogany box in her hands, “that I know your name, even though we've never spoken before.” She kicked out a chair and sat, unfolded the box, and he reached to help her set the pieces. He hadn't played in ages. Hopefully he still had some skill.

“Not at all. You are – Trevelyan, right?”

She glanced up from the first move with a pawn in her hand, amused. “Half the people here are Trevelyan. The real question is if you know which one.” She seemed to change her mind and moved her knight instead, before sitting back to look at him expectantly. 

Did he know which one? Evelyan Rhiannon Avella Trevelyan, youngest of four? Five? Twenty.... one? Maybe twenty two. A few years younger than himself. Uninitiated cleric, spent every day in the library rummaging through books about some Divine or another from the Blessed Age. Came and went through the south door, which meant that her quarters were in the left wing or around there. Snuck food in the pockets of her robes past the revered mothers to eat them in the back stacks where nobody save the west door guard – himself, more often than not – could see. Incidentally, also happened to be the humiliating focus of Cullen's overly juvenile romantic doorway daydreams. 

“Sister... Evelyn, right?” He stared at his rook before gathering the nerve to look her in the eye. She looked mildly pleased – at his move or at his answer, he wasn't sure, but it gave him confidence nevertheless. “Trevelyan. You're a cleric.”

She nodded. “Got it in one. As for you... Ser Cullen. You're a templar. Fereldan, clearly.” She moved her bishop right into the line of his rook. Chancy move. “Doesn't standing there every day get boring?”

“It's... not the most exciting work,” he admitted, and slid a pawn forward a square, “but it's necessary. I don't mind it so much. I know others do.”

“Well, you seem to be very good at it. You spend enough time here... What? Four days a week?”

She knew how often he was here. She looked for him. She noticed him, at least four times. What had he been doing when she'd looked at him? Hopefully his hair hadn't been too horrible. Hopefully it wasn't now. “Um, yes. Four. Days a week, that is." He reached up to try and pat down his curls as casually as possible. "You spend much time reading....” he trailed off awkwardly, “You seem good at it as well. Or... um, maybe very bad. Depending.”

He realized what he had implied too late, and had a single second of horror before she leaned her head back and laughed, her mouth open and sound bouncing off the empty library walls. He nearly passed out with relief and couldn't help but chuckle along with her.

They sat there laughing for a moment until she leaned forward to set her chin in her hands and stare him in the eye. “Funny and handsome. Quite a combination.” She raised her eyebrows and blinked at him. 

Was she flirting with him? She was _flirting with him._ His head jerked and he felt his nerves start to buzz. “I... uh...” He clenched his fits and his face burned.

Her toothy grin widened and she kicked her feet out to knock into his boots at his stuttering.

“Your move, templar.”

**Author's Note:**

> He's really not that creepy. He just listens to people talk. The guy has a lot of time on his hands.
> 
> May or may not be a companion piece to this story - [ miles outside the eye of the storm](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4903099) which is definitely _not_ a romance.


End file.
